Trapped In A Room of Four Walls
by RyooNaberrie
Summary: A former senator turned prisoner is slowly losing her mind    OneShot


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DISCLAIMER: All Star Wars references and characters belong to LucasFilms.

DAY 4503

Staring blankly at the molding ceiling, I'm watching nothing, but hearing all.

They say I have gone mad, that I've lost my mind. But they know nothing about me. They know nothing of the real world, where there is no sanity. Sanity died with the rest of the galaxy, almost fifteen years ago.

I only know the date by the days of my imprisonment. Every morning, I am handed a tray of food to last me the whole day through. I use my steel fork to etch yet another mark into the stone walls of my dreadful prison. 4503. That's how many days have been like this for me.

At first, I pleaded for my freedom to people and droids passing by the cell, but I very soon realized that I was fooled. I was never to escape this horrid room of four walls. I've learned to accept that I will probably live the rest of my existence here and probably will take my last dying beaths here, and my worn body will most likely be carelessly dumped somewhere, to stay for all eternity.

I can't even feel anything anymore. It's been a full decade and a half since I've cried, smiled, laughed, or even spoken to a living being. Now, no one cares about me. The water left in my daily goblet is the only thing that hasn't completely deserted me,

I used to live for love, but now I live for the day I will be reunited my love.

I'm just a hopeless, depressed, lifeless, voiceless, broken soul in a broken-apart galaxy.

As I sit here, ragged and dirty from years without washing, staring contently at my wooden bed, I dream of the past.

For the rest of my life, I will always be just another desperate soul that everyone forgot.

DAY 4504

Drip-drop, drip-drop, drip-drop goes the dull sound of water dripping onto the already cold surface of the floor. I'm not even sure where the leaking water really comes from- I don't possess a sink.

The only thing I can do in this unforgivable room of four walls is think and sing. I sing, only in my head, nearly all the time, letting the instantly made-up lyrics come from the tip of my tongue to my thoughtless brain. Not the other way around. When I "sing", the horrible guards outside don't pay me any attention at all, because they can't hear me.

I don't sing out loud.

To the security guards and the other mad prisoners, I am crazy. but I know, deep down, that I'm not. Not completely. Not just yet.

The screaming silence that calls my name is too much for me to handle. To calm the maddenly screams, I start singing very softly in my head, letting the only thoughts my empty brain can think out to drown in my bottomless soul.

Hey, can you hear me, all you people out there?

I am trapped in this cage

All the scars- I was so scared

I can't talk, I can't speak, I can't even think as it is

Can you hear me?

Please surrender my pain

Can you hear me and the words inside my head?

Can you hear me?

Someone, please put a stop to my life

Weak with exhaustion of another long while without sleep, I doze off. I'm blissfully unaware of the sick and twisted man from my almost-forgotten past who was just about to walk through the molded doors of the hidden prison I am trapped in .

DAY 4505

I was sharply awoken by a thundering noise, causing my body to sit straight up from my hard wooden bed. All I can see is a tall figure drenched in black clothing passing each and every one of the cells to look in.

For the first time in a very long time, I feel curiousity, and I welcome it with completely open arms. After all, it is the very first emotion I have felt in years and years.

Peering intently down the filthy hall, I saw the strangely masked person order one of the smaller guards around, leading me to understand that he is a prominent figure in this worn-down prison.

"Dispose of this useless prisoner at once," demanded the hollow and almost-electronic sound of the creature.

"As you wish, my Lord," replied the egotistical guard, who then brutally picked up the insane prisoner and carried him down the hall.

Just as I glanced at the masked man, his covered face suddenly shot to look straight at me, as if he could sense my lingering presence.

I pulled my ratted nest of curls back through the bars, and sat straight on my cold floor, purposely facing the opposite direction to which I somehow knew the mysterious man was looking closely at my back, probably thinking of a very clever way to "dispose" of my already-lifeless shell.

A monsterous voice broke the deafening silence with a hiss, " Turn around, prisoner," he ordered.

My mind clearly wanted death so bad, but my heart wouldn't allow my mind to take control so easily, "Not until Anakin comes back to you." To my contentment, the creature did not appear to hear my insane thoughts.

My soul was as shocked as it had been in years when I didn't turn around, and even more surprised at what happened next.

The dark creature (that I had decided was a male) simply asked one of the guards beside him who I was. When the young guard finally remembered, he quickly answered his "lord" , "She is a former senator of the Old Republic, I believe. She was known as Amidala of the Naboo."

Sounds of a destructive lightsaber sounded through the frozen air so quickly, I jumped up and attempted to hide under my wooden crate of a bed for protection. I heard not a single soul that was still alive, until my ears recognized the awful hissing breaths that belonged to the terrifing dark creature who hid behind a dark black mask.

Hurried, hollow steps greeted my ears as I was helplessly picked up by the monster who had killed all who surrounded my cell. The disturbingly armored man almost tenderly carried me to the hard bed, to carefully lie my weak body there. My simple mind could hardly comprehend his unusual act of kindness, but I couldn't speak to thank him for the small favor. I haven't even spoken for many years, I really don't even think I remember how to- if I had ever spoken to begin with.

"Are you okay, milady?" asked the sharp respirator I was sure the man was using to speak. I pointed meaningly to my extremely sore throat, but the dark man did not understand my antics. Instead, he became almost panicked as if he actually cared for me. But I am quite sure he doesn't care for me. I don't even know this stranger.

"Why can't you speak? Did someone hurt you? Who?" came the Lord's obviously confused voice. I simply shook my head in desperation, just trying to get him to understand that I hadn't spoken for a long while. Finally, the man sighed and gave up.

He started caressing my face with his covered hands, while it appeared that the deep holes within his evil mask were staring deeply within the brown orbs that grace my aged face. It must have been for more than an hour that I simply layed there and the dark creature touched my face that I was so sure was pale from not seeing sun for years.

As I sat feeling quite uncomfortable with the present situation, I studied the strange man just as he was now closely studying me. There was almost nothing to study, as he was mainly covered up from head to toe. All I could stare at were the large things that were currently running down my face. The black gloves that he bore on his hands reminded me of my husband's that he used to cover his mechanical right hand with.

I so wished that I could be reunited with my love, just as I had hoped for in the pressing years that my body was locked in the cage. Even though I was told by countless others that it was true, I do not believe that my Anakin is dead. My heart does not believe the lies. I have been mentally screaming his beautiful name for a long time now, but no one has ever heard me. I hate them so.

I know that my emotional health is so very poor these days. The sense of knowing has deteriorated beyond repair, and somehow, I just know my time is growing slimmer and slimmer with each breath I take.

Since my voicebox has long since given out, I simply mouth the words my mind had wanted to know," Who are you?"

The dark creature did not answer for more than ten minutes, until he answered in an almost emotional tone, "You are my angel."

My Anakin! After years and years of pointless waiting, my heart has finally ended it's search for my love. With all the strength left in my dying body, I hug my lifelong protector and husband.

"Don't leave me, Padme," begs the horrible voice my husband now uses, as he gently shakes my shoulders for me to wake up my body again.

But I know this is my time, now that I've been reunited witht he only one I needed to see to make my life complete again.

My voice so hurts unbelievably, but I still say my last words to my husband, to remind him of the beautiful love we had once and forever would share.

"I love you, my Anakin."

Agonizing shudders claim my frail body, as my husband looks on helplessly, and I slip into the frightening depths of death.

The REAL Day 4503

Shooting straight up from my wooden crate of a bed, I realize all my past two days of living have been merely a dream. I would never die in the arms of my beloved. No one would ever watch in mourning as I died.

Penetrating sobs flow thorough my body as I feel my hope to be reunited with my lover diminish in one final gasp.

Cradling my bloodied head in my hands, I weep for what could have been, and what I thought actually was.

Forever, I am a shell just trapped in a prison. A shell that no one will ever care for, or find beautiful like they used to.

My name was Padme Amidala Naberrie Skywalker, but now... I am nothing.

My name is nothing, and I am just trapped in a room of four walls.


End file.
